


You're Never Really Alone

by ineedthislikeaholeinthehead



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Cherik - Freeform, I'm not sure if I was supposed to tag superhero names too, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7172765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedthislikeaholeinthehead/pseuds/ineedthislikeaholeinthehead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik doesn't like Charles in his head.  And Charles tries to respect that, as much as possible.  He tries to be respectful. </p><p>Which doesn't mean he isn't happy when an excuse to go back in comes up.  </p><p>He feels a little bad about the fact that he's downright giddy to tell Erik about Peter's injury... but at least it means that Erik is coming home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Never Really Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prefertheconsultingdetective](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prefertheconsultingdetective/gifts).



> This is my first Cherik. I blame both Apocalypse AND prefertheconsultingdetective.
> 
> Prefertheconsultingdetective because she writes Cherik, Apocalypse because it gave me SO MANY FEELINGS. 
> 
> I can't contain my feelings, and everyone IRL is tired of hearing me bitch about it, so I had no choice but to write about it instead.
> 
> But I'm not super experienced. Actually, I'm extremely unprepared. So, you know... lower your expectations.

The plus side of fucking a psychic is that they know exactly what you want before you can ask. 

The downside is, it’s addicting. The downside, there’s no comparison once you’ve gotten a good taste. The downside, just because they know what you want doesn’t mean they’re going to give it to you. 

+*~*+

There are ways to make sure Charles can’t get in. Erik doesn’t bother with them any more. Helmets or meditation or getting so fucking smashed that your blackout is for all intents and purposes the sleep of death- it doesn’t matter what trick, if he wants to find him it doesn’t matter. Charles always finds a way. 

He tries not to take advantage. Erik isn’t psychic, he thinks, maybe just in the case of their connection. When Charles is looking for him, Erik always knows. 

Charles hates the fact that he has to look. Erik hates it too. 

+*~*+

There’s always chaos. There’s always mayhem and danger. Charles could drown in the problems that were always cropping up in his life. But he doesn’t summon Erik. Sometimes he wonders if Erik’s behind half the shit he has to deal with. He never asks for a confession, though. He never looks for the answers, either. 

Hearing the truth would break Charles. 

How many times can you believe in a person’s innate goodness before you give up on them? 

One more time. Always one more time. 

+*~*+

Erik feels the pull- it’s not in Charles, it's in him. Something’s wrong and he can’t tell what- he’s not a mind reader and he’s not a psychic. He’s still human enough to know when something’s coming, when something’s wrong, though. He chooses to ignore it instead, doesn’t want to risk his thoughts alarming Charles when he’s inevitably in his head. 

He doesn’t want to let his thoughts go in the direction they always go. He can imagine the most terrible scenarios, but his imagination is never powerful enough. Whatever he thinks is the worst possible case, it’s always so much worse. So he pushes away the thoughts, the feelings. Out of sight, out of mind. 

He hopes.

+*~*+

Charles doesn’t want to feel excited. This was a sombre time. As always, there was danger and there was mayhem and there was a potentially mortally wounded friend clinging to life in the next room. 

So the fact that this specific event meant calling Erik back home should not be filling Charles with glee. But there it was. 

Erik. He waited for a response. Erik…. Charles didn’t really have time for this. ERIK!!!

“WHAT?” He hated himself for not being stronger willed. “What do you want, Charles?” 

You. 

“That’s not funny.” 

You used to laugh.

“I’ve grown a sense of humor.” 

Or lost one. 

“Tell me what you want, or leave me alone.” 

I need you.

“I already told you, that isn’t funny.” 

I mean it. There’s a problem at the house. It’s dire.

“I wonder what dire means to you.” 

Well, I’m not asking you to unclog a toilet.

“Then what do you want?” 

It’s better if you just come.

“And if I refuse?” 

You’ll regret it. 

“Add it to the pile.” 

Erik… please.

Erik wished he could run. But there was nowhere to run to. He wished he could hide, but how do you hide from a possesive mind reader? He wished he could blame Charles’ powers for why . 

“Fine.” And with that, he was there, a very exhausted Nightcrawler still holding his waist. 

“Guten Tag, Kurt.” He said. Kurt wiped his blue brow. 

“Wohl kaum.” When he walked away, Erik noticed the slash across the back of his suit and the blood still drying over it. 

“You’re finally here!” Hank said, running into the room, almost sliding into the door frame. 

“Finally?” Erik asked. Hank grabbed his hand and pulled him down a corridor- through a gaggle of curious children. 

“There’s no time to explain.” He said as he dragged Erik down another hall, to an elevator, down to a floor deeper than he’d realized there was. 

Erik had rebuilt this building- he had intimate knowledge of every corridor. Hank and Charles must have been working their asses off to make sure it hadn’t stayed that way. 

When the doors open, Charles is there waiting. 

“Welcome home.” He says. 

“You just keep that in your back pocket for anyone who visits twice?” 

“Do you have a home anywhere else?” 

“I’m not one of your charity cases, Charles.” 

“Can the two of you have your charming repartee sometime when I don’t have a dying patient?” Hank begs. 

“Patient? I didn’t think you were that sort of doctor.” 

Charles started moving past the door.. 

“I would trust Hank with my life. I have trusted Hank with my life.”  
“Well then, I’m assuming I’m not here to play nurse?” A look passed between Charles and Hank that Erik did not appreciate. 

“We need your blood.” 

“Pardon?” 

“We’ve got a good man behind these doors, and he’s about to die if we don’t have your blood.” 

“How much of it?” Hank looked at Charles one more time before he sighed. 

“All of it.” 

Erik shook his head. He must have heard that wrong. 

“Not all at once.” Charles said. 

“And we’ll give it back.” 

“You’ll what?” 

“We just need to flush his system, give it a little kick start. He’s got enough blood still to survive… probably.” Hank said. 

“Then let me give him a pint, and we’ll call that fair.” 

“It’s not the blood loss that’s the problem.” 

“He’s got an unknown infection- “ Charles started. 

“I can’t identify it. But I can get rid of it… if we..well, if we disinfect his blood.” 

“So do it little by little.” 

“You don’t think we’ve tried?” Charles spat back. 

“Every time we put it back… it reinfects. We have to do it at once- one fell swoop.” 

“And what’s to say you’re not going to infect me with this?”

“It’s not going to happen.” Charles says. 

“I appreciate your confidence, Charles, but it's not exactly a vote of confidence.” 

You want to do this. 

“Stop trying to hypnotize me.” 

“Seriously, this is no time for head games. Are we going to save Peter or not?” Hank asked. He liked Erik...to a point...but being around him and Charles at the same time was exasperating even on a good day. This was most decidedly not a good day. 

“Peter?” Erik asked. “Quicksilver?” 

“You understand why it’s important now? Why we have to move now?” Hank asked. 

“Not important enough to die over.” Erik said as he turned back. 

“You’re fucking joking.” Hank said, looking at Charles to do something. 

“You’re walking away from a fate you could change.” 

“They’re your children, Charles. Not mine.” 

I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Erik turned around. Believe me. 

But he didn’t want to. His entire life had been lesson after lesson about losing his family. He was alone now. It meant no one could hurt him again. 

You don’t know, Erik. You don’t believe me. Do you really want to take that chance? 

Erik stormed towards the door so fast that Hank had to run to catch up to him. He opened the door and immediately saw Jean Grey standing next to the shreds of what might have once been Peter. 

“What’s she doing?” He asked. 

“Keeping him asleep.” Hank replied.  
“For the pain.” Jean explained, not looking away. 

“Don’t you have drugs for that?” 

“We don’t know how they’re going to react to the virus.” Hank said. “And we don’t know how long Jean and Peter can hold off whatever it is.” Erik noticed the equipment- tubes, bags… needles. 

“Alright. Alright.” He said, summoning a metal stretcher and leaving it parallel to Peter. 

Hank looked at Charles. You might as well take the offer while he’s making it. Hank started preparing while Erik took off his shirt.

“I need you to relax.” Charles told him as he laid down. 

“No you don’t.” Erik said, and levitated the needle from Hank’s fingers, sticking it perfectly into his own vein without even the hint of hesitation. 

“I know you think you can handle anything, Erik, but this isn’t going to be pretty.” Charles warned him. 

“Oh, really?” Erik quipped. “Well, in that case.” He said, sitting up and pretending to leave. 

“You’re not funny.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

“Let me put you to sleep.” Erik knew he was being stubborn. He was giving Charles what he wanted. Defending yourself- even preemptively defending yourself- was one thing. Erik would always support that. But Charles let his kids, his X-men, go out and get in the middle of fights they had no understanding of, no way of really winning. Charles deserved to lose good soldiers. 

But Peter didn’t deserve to be another lesson for Charles. A lesson Erik wagered Charles would never learn. Erik fell asleep still thinking about that. 

+*~*+

Go back to sleep. 

The voice in his head was soothing, sweet. He tried to look up, but the muscles in his neck weren’t agreeing with him. Nothing was agreeing with him. He couldn’t feel anything, and at the same time, everything was burning...but cold. Freezer burnt. 

You don’t want to be here. He realized it must be Jean in his head.  
“Get him back down.” He heard Hank feverishly yelling. 

Erik, please. He let his lids fall back down. He didn’t want to be here for this.

+*~*+

He knew where he was before he opened his eyes. 

Charles was still sitting in his chair. 

“You could have gotten me into your bed with slightly less bloodletting, Charles.” Erik said with a laugh as he tried to sit up. A move he instantly regretted. At least he could turn his head enough to see Charles smiling. 

“My bedroom is the closest to the operating room.” He said. 

“Why do you even have an operating room, Charles?” He couldn’t look at Erik as he answered. 

“Because we needed it.”

“Things aren’t as hopeful as you imagined… People aren’t as good as you’d hoped.” Charles rolled away, towards the window where he could pretend looking at his campus would soothe at least some of the memories flooding his head. 

“Don’t say I told you so, Erik.” 

But what else is there to say? He asked, hoping that Charles heard, but not doubting it. Charles couldn’t help but hear Erik, even if he never really listened. 

“How is Peter?” He eventually asked. Charles turned back. 

“He’s recovering rather well. Not a trace of the virus left in his system.” 

“And me?” 

“You tell me.” 

“I don’t think I could feel if I had a virus, Charles.” 

“You’re fine, Erik. You just need to rest.” 

“Where are you going to sleep, then?” There’s a pause, and Erik doesn’t have to be psychic to know what Charles is thinking.  
“We’ll figure that out if I sleep.” 

If?

+*~*+

The plus side of fucking a magnetic is that they’re handy with props. Never doubt, they’ll always be there to hold you up. 

The downside is, it’s addicting. The downside, no one else compares. The downside, just because they’re supporting you now doesn’t mean they’ll be there forever. 

+*~*+

Charles would never really forgive Erik for the loss of his legs. Not completely, at least. But after so many years, Charles had become accustomed to being paraplegic. He wasn’t one to feel helpless. 

Except when Erik was standing up and walking towards the door and it was all Charles felt.

“You’re not even going to speak with Peter?” Erik turned around, he’d thought he was going to get away before Charles woke up. Never. Not even if he was as fast as Quicksilver himself. 

“He must be resting.” 

“And?”

“I don’t want to take his strength while he’s recovering.” 

“While he’s recovering?” They stood there, the two of them, with the question hanging in the air. Charles could find out what Erik was thinking. It would be easy, practically an afterthought. 

But he didn’t do it. 

He studied his old friend’s eyes- the fine lines around them. How could a man get smile lines when he’d forgotten how to smile? He went over every part of Erik’s face again, as if to memorize it, only he knew it was constantly changing, and if he remembered it this way, it wouldn’t be the same next time. 

And he knew there would be a next time, even if Erik wasn’t sure. Charles wondered if Erik was sure of anything anymore. 

“We’ll see.” Erik pulled open the door. “Goodbye, Charles.”  
Erik always said it like it was the last time. Charles always knew it wasn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism welcome. Also welcome, your thoughts about Cherik.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
